a hero - VERY SAD STORY
by hearts4u2nv
Summary: ITS A RELLY SAD STORY FETURIN MI OC AS TEH STAR. basicly sum smashers r stuk on a ship. kaos ensues. how will da smashers surviv?1 PLEASE R&R I PROMIS TIHS IS GUD i just suck at summarys PLZ NO FLAEMS OR LIKN WIL KILL U :d a relly reil treat.


hey guiz! ok this is mi first storie. its supposed 2 b sad in fat i cryed typein this. i think its gud nd i thik u wil 2 but if u dont then ur probli jus jellus and plz dont flaem me!1 im not askin lol im makin sure u kno liek a warning

link: they wont flaem u i promis nd if they do ill kil them w/ mi sord

me: omg link is dat u?!

link: lolya im here obv allwaiz by ur sied

me: omg lnk ur so swt, ud do that 4 mi?!

link: ya bby. i luv u

me: *blushes* i luv u 2

link: i luv u moar

me: :d

likn: :d

okie guiz, heer it is!1 remember no flaemzZzZZ!1

* * *

We were the stuff of heroes - with the dashing smiles, the strong bodies, the quick-witted quips, the strong brushstrokes of masculinity. We weren't supposed to die.

But that's what happened anyway.

Sometimes, if you look past the aged lines that open up and smile for you, you might see through that impenetrable shield and it shouldn't surprise you, what you might find there.

But it kind of does anyway.

And once you see it, you can't ever forget what it was that you saw.

* * *

I can hear the angels coming closer. Their wings make that beating noise, but maybe it's just the sound of my own blood. Or maybe it's his, the one sitting next to me. His face won't show it because he knows better, but I can tell. His face mirrors what I'm going through, after all.

Are they angels?

"Can't be much longer now," Ike says. He wipes at his upper lip, and when he does there is no detectable tremor in his hand. But I can almost feel how frozen his blood seems underneath his flesh. When his fingers come away they are wet with salt. It isn't tears. Real men don't cry.

"No," I agree. I'm sitting down, my back against the overheating ship and my legs sprawled out before me.

Captain Falcon faces me. He has his helmet off, showing how wet his short hair is from the sweat. It's one of those rare times that I can see his face. I look into those dark brown eyes of his, but I can't find anything in them. He hides it well, I decide. "You didn't think it would end like this, did you?" he asks.

I steel myself, trying to think of the right words, the right tone. It's hard, but I manage it just barely. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Falcon looks away as if he's disappointed. I can see the ghost of a half smile appearing on his lips - He didn't want me to say that. He probably wanted me to cave in first, but I won't. Too much pride for that. "Neither would I," he says at last.

A ripple, or maybe a tremor pulses through the ship - shuddering, trying to hold onto dear life. Around us, red lights flicker softly in warning, casting bloody shadows over everything. I already disabled the emergency protocol. There's no reason to have it blare instructions anymore. Not when the only people left here are those who volunteered to stay.

The rest of the Smashers must be long gone by now. Maybe they're already home. I imagine that they'll immortalize us and say that we saved them. They'll put our names on a shiny golden plaque and at first, they'll stare at it whenever they walk by. They will remember our sacrifice. It will rock their very cores.

But even death can't make you immortal. And soon, that too shall fade. Years will pass, people will forget. Maybe there will be one day where they will remember, but the pain won't be as deep as it will be today for them. Nothing that painful or raw is ever so permanent.

Another tremor runs through the ship, this time a lot more violent and urgent. I hear a slow creaking coming from the back of the ship. The next time I let out a breath, it is shallow. I hope it wasn't loud enough for anyone to hear.

"So," Link says to us, as if he doesn't notice what's going on. "Any regrets?" He can't hide it as well as those of us sitting down. The pupils in his eyes have contracted so tightly, that they resemble tiny black pinpricks, the beginnings of a black hole. He can't blame it on the lighting - It is too dark for constricted pupils, and I know he probably hates the fact that his eyes are such a light color and that they can't mask his obvious fear very well.

Mario sniffles. He stands away from Ike, Link, Captain Falcon and Mr. Game and Watch. He's looking out of one of the ship's windows, one shoulder sloughed against it. The window displays a panoramic view of cold, infinite and empty space, both beautiful and treacherous at the same time.

It will be our graves in about five minutes.

There's a huge crack that's streaked across the window, like a lightning bolt, marring what could have been a beautiful view of the stars. The stars used to be my friends, but now they look like they're grinning widely. _You didn't think this was coming now, did you now?_ they seem to echo Captain Falcon's statement earlier.

I thought about all the times I thought I was going to die, but miraculously didn't. I definitely didn't count this time to be one of them. It was just supposed to be a stupid trip to Smash Headquarters before the engines failed while we were passing through an asteroid belt. And of course, there weren't enough escape pods for all of us.

Funny how life always throws you off, even when you try preparing for these little curveballs like death.

We all try to ignore Mario. It's for his own good after all, to pretend that we didn't hear his glaringly obvious show of emotion. Mr. Game and Watch bleeps a series of responses to Link's question but nobody understands his primitive 2D vernacular. None of us are entirely sure why he even volunteered to be here. We really never thought he would, but then, did anyone really ever pay attention to him at all? Maybe, I think as I stare at his 2D form, maybe that's why he decided to stay behind. The desire to be recognized must be a powerful thing. More powerful than the fear of death.

When Mr. Game and Watch finishes his monologue, and all of us sit there nodding thoughtfully as if we all understand it, Captain Falcon says, "I left a bologna sandwich at my house before I left on this damned tournament ship. My regret is that I wish I ate it."

The mood in the room lifts slightly with this statement somehow. I even detect Link's pupils dilating by just a hair's width.

"How can you guys just sit there making jokes?!" Mario asks, turning around to face us. Down either side of his cheeks are tear tracks that glisten against the red pulsing lights. "We're going to die! We'll never take another breath!" He stabs a finger towards Ike. "How can you just sit there silently? Don't you care that you won't ever see your friends? Or your family? Didn't you have a sister, waiting at home for you?" The finger switches its location towards Mr. Game and Watch. "And you? How can you just sit around bleeping? None of us understand you, maybe that's why you're always never heard!" He points his finger at Link, "And you? What about your princes, eh? Who's going to love and protect Peach?!"

It takes him a heartbeat to understand the Freudian slip of the tongue. And now that he 's said it we all know what's really bothering him. But none of us really know what to say. Because once Mario's said it in the open, our arteries tighten in anticipation towards our fragile ends. Link's pupils have constricted again - He must be thinking about Zelda.

I'm glad Mario's finger of accusation didn't get to me. I don't know what he would've said. Maybe that I'm just too messed up to actually give a damn about what I'm leaving behind. Maybe that, despite my gritty exterior that I'm not a hero because of all the things I've done.

The ship whines in protest, and suddenly there's a grating noise - Like steel being ripped violently away from its hinges.

And now the panic that I saw in Mario's eyes - Naked and skittish, suddenly makes sense to me. Too much sense. But it's just too late that I feel this blind panic. There's nothing I can do. I look towards Captain Falcon - His face mirrors mine as it did before.

The ship begins to seize, and the nerves in my mind begin to fire off rapidly, thinking about what was and what could have been.

I know there's only a few seconds left before the ship explodes and all I can think of at this very moment, at this very second as my pulse increases in erratic rates, that I wish that I could've just gotten to know what it felt like to be-

* * *

_A/N: Got you there, didn't I?_

_In case you're confused, yes he did die before he could complete his thought. I'm not saying this is a great one-shot - because I didn't spend much time on it to make it to be greater than it is right now - But I'm sure it's a lot better than a trollfic. If this is what it takes to get attention - To dress this up like something a lot of people want to flame, then that just shows how sad this section is becoming._

_You don't have to review. This is supposed to be a wake up call. That writing like what I've just written actually exists here, and it's probably way better than this. You only have to look for it, rather than looking out for troll-fics to flame on here._


End file.
